Sharing is sometimes too much

She taught me that pain could strike deeper than a superficial wound. It cuts straight into you with a katana…slices your heart open like we disassemble turkeys to give thanks…thanks that we aren’t turkeys even if we gobble gobble life up up up and dream higher than clouds but eventually as we float up released by a child our balloon is hit by arrows…not by cupid but from a stupid thought that somehow I connected to your heart and your being

I was the thoughts in your head when it hit the pillow on your bed and every tear that leaked out was a thought of me not being there…this is what I pretend
This is what my world looked like through my eyes however the lids were closed and I was blind to the rain from your eyes it was thoughts of a man, a cruel being that came to you and in you and on you and he slept, as you wept and he didn’t feel a thing, but those moments when yes yes yes you were his but that was all it seemed to mean

A physical touch and a longing for a heart that he could not find with his dick or fingertips or the passion of a kiss…he betrayed you and didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend he did not. That man was selfish and took everything he could in your pictures, from your body, from the child that laughed in your eyes and his power grew like a blood crazed piranha whipping in a frenzy from the physical lust that he used to betray your soul…he’s not the guy you saw yourself with…this person this “man” is a child that never learned to love and did not get enough hugs …a selfish coward that hides in touch as a way to escape opening up…but what if he did?

Did you want to see him take a knife and commit Seppuku and spill out his insides on the floor…watch the bugs crawl out of his filth. The withered remains of his past, like snakes crawling up into you and infecting you, possessing you, smothering and constricting your very last breath. It was the death of his family and the decay of abuse that riddled his brains turning them from flying kites into fucking for nights and turning the teddy bears into human fuck sticks that grind and moan while no one is home. Those twisted yesterdays of choking it down because the hands around his throat were never his own, but the hands of love of paternal care and every breath that could not pass was a tear he never cried.

When his head hit the bed and a pillow that caressed it in a way that you could not because the comfort you gave was not between your legs or on the tips of your nipples...it came from your smile that melted away the sorrows for another day, from the look in your eyes that meant everything was okay.

It was the love he never knew that cut him open like a katana with a thanks and a turkey …you gobbled him up up up and never turned around to realize he was not just some heartless man that used your legs for handles and your sweetness as a target for a jackhammer. He loved you and his tears are not from the past…they came when you walked away. The pain is still inside, it was the one thing you left behind.